


storm through

by tkreyesevandiaz



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Caring Evan "Buck" Buckley, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Christopher Diaz is a Sweetheart, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cuddles, Eddie Diaz Needs a Hug (9-1-1 TV), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Original Character Death(s), POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Thunderstorms, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley, mentions of original characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkreyesevandiaz/pseuds/tkreyesevandiaz
Summary: It was something he didn’t foresee, having thunderstorms ruined by the rough edges of war, but Eddie supposed in all the things that had been taken from him the second he’d signed his name on the enlistment form, thunderstorms weren’t the worst of it.Or, the one where Christopher and Buck take care of Eddie in their own ways
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 33
Kudos: 277





	storm through

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> Man, I haven't gone this long without posting in forever. Anyway, here we are with a new fic!
> 
> Big love to @SevenSoulmates (tumblr/AO3) for looking this over for me <3
> 
>  **TW:** Anxiety Descriptions, Brief Descriptions of Off-Screen Original Character Death, PTSD

He could still feel it.

The ribs cracking under his palms, the way her chest had just caved in, the shake of Bobby’s head when four, five minutes ticked by without a single beat, the roar of blood through his ears when he realized she wasn’t coming back.

He could still hear her best friend’s blood-curdling scream, could still see him frantically shoving against the firefighters holding him back. He could see his stricken look when _he_ realized his best friend wasn’t coming back, the thud of his knees as he fell to the ground.

And Eddie...Eddie felt like a failure.

“Eddie.”

That was Bobby’s voice and from the loud sound of it, it wasn’t the first time he’d been called.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, snapping back to reality. “Yeah. Sorry, Cap, were you saying something?”

“Do you need someone to take you home?” he asked.

Eddie shook his head, sticking his head into his locker for a few moments so his captain couldn’t read him. He took a few measured breathes, haphazardly pulling things out to toss into his bag. Then, pulling on years of repressing his every thought, he stepped back to face him anyway. “I’m okay. I just need to go see Christopher.”

“Okay. Take tomorrow, too,” Bobby said, leaving him with a comforting pat to his shoulder. Eddie found himself grateful that his captain hadn’t pushed the matter, and even more so for the day-off, even if a part of him wanted to protest that he was fine.

Gathering his stuff, Eddie slung his bag over his shoulder and started for the exit. It had just started raining, which only made his mood even more monstrous.

It had been a car accident. Two pedestrians had just started to walk across the zebra crossing when a car ran the red light, the front corner clipping one of them and sending her flying with the force of impact. She’d cracked her head on the way down, blood seeping into the concrete as her friend frantically dialed 9-1-1. 

It had been Shannon all over again.

Throwing the duffel into the cab, Eddie wished - not for the first time, and completely selfishly - that Buck had been on shift today. The man had a way of making the worst parts of the job bearable. 

He felt vile for even thinking about it; the thought was too self-centered, too needy. Eddie didn’t even know how to approach it. For all the seconds he let himself entertain the possibility that he _could_ call Buck, the larger, insecure part of him stopped him.

Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face before starting his truck. Pressed with the urgency to see his son, he pushed the speed limit just a tad, needing Christopher in his arms more than anything else. 

“Dad!” his son yelled the second he stepped in the house, already brightening his day a smidgen. Eddie knelt as Christopher came towards him to throw his little arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. He held onto his boy a little longer than normal, lifting him up to walk into the house. Christopher only hummed happily, wrapping his legs around his torso. 

“Thanks for watching him, Carla,” he greeted the woman, who only waved him off, rummaging through her purse.

“He’s a darling, you know this, Eddie.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carla must’ve sensed something in his voice, because she shifted her attention from her purse to him, narrowing her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a rough call.” There was never any point in lying to Carla; the woman was far too smart for anyone’s good. Christopher tightened his grip on his neck, shifting to press a sloppy kiss to his skin, taking another bit of the day’s tension with the easy affection.

“Do you want me to stay? Maybe call Buck or something?” It seemed that everyone seemed to know where his thoughts took him on days like this, and Eddie didn’t know if he liked the feeling of being so transparent.

“No, it’s okay, thank you. I think we’re good. Right, Christopher?”

“Yeah!” he piped up, lifting his head to give a toothy smile. Eddie’s heart ached with how much he loved his little man, and he held him tighter, not even letting go as he saw Carla out.

“Did you eat your after-school snack?” Eddie asked, shifting his son’s weight in his arms.

“Carla made sandwiches,” Chris said. “We left some for you.”

He probably couldn’t stomach even water right now. Still, he forced a smile on his face, bringing them both over to the couch. “That was nice of you two, thank you, buddy.”

“Aren’t you going to eat some?”

“Maybe later,” he answered gently. Christopher stayed quiet at that, but clambered off his lap to sort through the DVD collection on the far corner.

Without his son in his lap, Eddie’s thoughts wandered all over the place, set loose without Christopher’s weight to ground him.

There was something else about the call that was bothering him beyond recognition, a thought Eddie couldn’t put his finger on - yet another trigger in a whole list of them. He’d run through the call in his head a thousand times since then and now, but he still couldn’t figure out what it was.

Breathing out slowly through his mouth, Eddie looked out of the large windows overlooking the living room. The weather had only seemed to have gotten worse. Rain pounded against the glass, bringing another level of irritation to his mood at the unrelenting sound. 

_Sensory overload_ , Frank would say.

“What’d you do at school today?” he asked in a desperate bid to keep from spiraling. Christopher hummed, snorting to himself at some inside joke, but made his way back to the couch with an unknown case in his hand. 

He curled up in Eddie’s side, diving into the cool things they did with frogs and the homework he and Carla finished up. “And then during lunch, Ben tried to open the ketchup packet but it exploded all over Zach’s shirt. Ms. Flores tried to wipe it off, but his shirt turned a little gross. The explosion was awesome!”

Christopher’s laugh was infectious and even Eddie found himself chuckling. “Did it get on you?” 

“Nope. I was out of the way,” Christopher giggled. Eddie smiled and held his son closer, swallowing around the lump in his throat. All he could see were flashes of Shannon lying there, the stain her blood had left on the pavement, coming home to tell his son that his mother wasn’t coming back, the shadow of a distant thought.

But then Christopher burrowed a little deeper into his side, throwing a little arm around him, and Eddie took a deep breath.

He was here, and he was okay. They both were.

“Dad, can we watch _Zootopia_?” Chris asked, revealing the DVD case. Eddie nodded, getting up to slip it into the player.

He saw it on Christopher’s face before he sat down, the puppy-dog eyes and the slight pout that one Evan Buckley had taught him. The same look that broke his resolve every single time.

He sighed, propping his hands on his hips and leveling Chris with a look. “Are you going to eat dinner if I make popcorn?” 

“I will, I _promise_ ,” he insisted as diligently as a nine-year-old could muster. Eddie resigned himself to his fate, and walked around to the kitchen, ruffling his son’s hair as he went. The kid was sitting far too smug at his victory for Eddie’s liking.

As he waited for the popcorn to finish up, Eddie wondered if that was something that girl had planned to do - watch a movie with her friends, maybe gorge on greasy popcorn and laugh at all the funny scenes.

 _Leah_.

Leah was her name. Eddie would remember that. 

But most of all, he would remember her best friend breaking apart the syllables of her name to scream about the unfairness of it all. He’d remember how the boy had fallen as if his strings had been cut.

_Alex._

Alex was his name. Eddie would remember that, too.

It pulled Eddie under sometimes, how he’d survived a helicopter crash landing, three bullets and countless other near-death experiences, and yet...some people couldn’t even walk across the street without death looming over them. 

It felt like he was living a life he had no right to.

A flash of light startled him from where he’d been staring out the window, and Eddie just barely managed to clap his hands over his ears, feeling the low crack of the storm echo through his fingers.

When he was a kid, thunderstorms used to be the most fascinating unit about weather. He’d spend _hours_ in the little public library down the block from his school, just learning and researching about storms. 

He’d learned that you see lightning before you hear thunder because light travels faster than sound. He’d learned that warm air was what kept them going, and rain was what got them to stop once the cold draft cut off the hot air.

After coming back from his first tour, the first thunderstorm that had shook their little house in El Paso had nearly thrown Eddie out of his own skin. He’d locked himself in the walk-in closet to avoid looking at the lights, to avoid scaring his wife and kid. It was barely big enough to keep the newfound claustrophobia at bay but that was partially solved by flicking the overhead lamp on.

It was something he didn’t foresee, having thunderstorms ruined by the rough edges of war, but Eddie supposed in all the things that had been taken from him the second he’d signed his name on the enlistment form, thunderstorms weren’t the worst of it.

The second tour proved that thunderstorms were a complete no-go. Every time the fork of lightning lit up the bleary sky, Eddie saw explosions and felt his stomach dip with a phantom free-fall. He heard the startling discharge of weapons in his ears with each clap of thunder that followed, the smell of gunpowder sticking to the inside of his nose. He felt the slide of blood over his skin, the revolting texture of dust sticking to it.

Eddie jumped when the microwave started beeping, eyes scanning the kitchen and body tensing before he realized he was in his home in LA, not in the middle of a war zone in Afghanistan. Whooshing out a breath, he took a few measured inhales, trying to ground himself in the way Frank taught him.

“Dad!” Chris called. He clung to that sound, pulling the popcorn out and pouring it out in a bowl. Last minute, he remembered to grab paper towels to hopefully prevent the greasy hand-prints on the couch.

“Ready, buddy?” 

“Yeah!”

They settled in together, Christopher immediately slotting into place next to him. Eddie swallowed around rocks at the unabashed affection and pressed play, turning the volume up somewhat to drown out the sound of rain. All throughout, he warily eyed the blinds in front of the window, trying to stay alert for any forks of lightning so he didn’t spook his son.

“Daddy?” Christopher whispered. Eddie hummed, looking down at him. “Are you scared of storms?” 

He didn’t know Christopher had noticed, but he supposed that they were at a point where his genius son noticed everything. There wasn’t much Eddie could - or wanted to, for that matter - hide from him anymore.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I don’t like the loud noises.”

“I’ll protect you,” Christopher vowed with all the sincerity he could muster, which was surprisingly a lot. Eddie smiled a little wider and lifted his son to squeeze him tight.

“Thank you, Christopher.”

Somehow, with Chris’ easy acceptance of his fear, he relaxed a little under his son’s weight. 

He wasn’t a failure for being scared.

* * *

Dad was still scared. 

Christopher could feel it, even as his dad kept rubbing a hand down his back. Even as he laughed at Nick and Judy’s antics, he wasn’t relaxed. He kept looking at the window. And he wasn’t eating either.

He didn’t know what to do to make Dad feel better. He always laughed at _Zootopia_ , and Dad loved popcorn. He also loved cuddles but Christopher wasn’t big enough to hug him completely - he could only reach so far.

He started moving a hand down his dad’s side the way Dad did for him when _he_ was scared, thinking about what else to do to make him feel better.

The idea came to Christopher when he spotted Dad’s phone. He waited until his dad went to the bathroom before scrambling for the device, dialing a familiar number.

“Hey, Eds, what’s up?”

“Bucky?” Chris whispered, keeping an eye out.

“Chris? Is everything okay?” Buck sounded worried instantly.

“Yeah but I think Daddy’s scared of storms,” he paused, about to ask Buck what he should do. Instead, he got an even better idea, hoping Buck wasn’t busy. “Can you come over?”

“Of course,” Buck said immediately. “Just give me twenty minutes, okay?”

“What do I do while you’re not here?”

“Um...try hugging him, or maybe distracting him with a story? Stay calm and don’t be scared. Adults get scared of things too, and I know it’s scary to see your superhero dad like that but it’s all okay. He’s going to be fine because he has a superhero kid.”

Christopher believed him. Buck always made them feel better, and if he thought that Chris could help, then he must be right. “Okay. Thank you, Buck.”

“Any time, Superman. Hey, what do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t think Dad’s hungry, but he loved the food we got from that Indian place. I liked the curry and rice, too,” Chris told him, looking over the back of the couch in case his dad was coming back. 

“Alright, I’ll pick some up. I’m on my way, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Buck.”

He could hear Buck’s smile through the phone, and suddenly Christopher felt stronger. “Love you too, Christopher.”

He hung up and put the phone back just in time for his dad’s footsteps to come around to the living room. His eyes were red, which made Christopher’s heart hurt.

Dad was trying his best to teach Christopher that it was okay to cry, but he didn’t do it often. Work must’ve been really bad today if Dad was crying.

So Christopher shuffled around and wrapped his arms around his father, listening to the steady heartbeat under his chest and waiting for Buck to get here.

Together, they’d make sure Dad was okay.

* * *

Eddie wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he heard a knock on the front door, but what came through sure wasn’t it. Before he even could get up, Christopher was clambering down, shouting happily as his favourite person stepped through the threshold.

“Hey Diaz boys! How are we doing this fine night?” Buck crowed, bending to haul Christopher into a one-handed hug.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with the sudden relief that flooded him at the sight of his best friend. He didn’t know what to do now that he had the two people that made up the most important parts of him...right there. His world within his reach.

Suddenly he was struck with the realization of _why_ Alex’s scream was circulating in his mind on repeat - why it was sticking with him more than any other cry on any other call had.

He’d heard it before, in the form of his own name.

After the rescue of Hayden, the one that had gone wrong in so many ways, the one that _still_ plagued him all these months later, Eddie had staunchly decided against watching any of the news articles and reports.

He’d lived through it; he didn’t need any more reminders.

It was only after one fateful day at the station a week later that they were playing the news-reel again, and Eddie had caught sight of it. He’d watched, frozen in his seat, as the crane collapsed topside, as Buck clawed at the ground for him, screaming his name in a way that wasn’t unlike Alex’s scream for Leah today. 

_"Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! No!"_

_"Eddie! Eddie! No! No! Eddie!"_

The words torn through Buck's throat played through his mind on repeat some days. At first, he’d been hurt that no one had told him about it. Then, he’d been mad that such a private moment of weakness had been recorded and streamed for the entire world to see, for them to speculate in a way that wasn’t their business. Then, he’d been confused at what all of this meant - what was the missing piece that refused to click together? 

All of that in a bid to avoid the hammering in his chest at Buck’s visible distraught, the one his best friend hadn’t even talked to him about, the one that left them in a limbo of _should we? can we?_

Buck had found him in the loft, bounding up to tell him something but his grin dropped instantly at the sight of the news-reel playing on the TV. Before Eddie could even muster the courage to say anything, he’d turned and hightailed it back downstairs without a word.

After that, he’d just left it alone, deciding none of them needed the reminder of that night.

Before Eddie could track that thought any further, still sitting on the couch, Buck set down a few bags on the coffee table. He sent Christopher to wash his hands for dinner before taking a seat next to him.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“What are you doing here?”

Buck shrugged, tentatively reaching out. Eddie let himself be hugged, closing his eyes and breathing in for a minute. He listened to the rumble of Buck’s voice in his chest, letting it anchor him. “Thought we could hang out for a while, I don’t like thunderstorms and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“You don’t like them, either?” He pulled away, surprised at this. He hadn’t meant to reveal that _he_ didn’t like them, but this was Buck - there was nothing to hide.

“No, they remind me of…” Buck hesitated, staring at him for a second before looking away, clearing his throat and wrapping his fingers around the bags again. “Well, anyway. I bought food, so why don’t you go wash your hands while I get this plated for us?” 

Eddie complied, settling down next to Christopher while Buck hovered around the kitchen, easily pulling bowls out while keeping up a steady stream of conversation.

“Bucky, did you get the triangle things?” Christopher asked excitedly, bouncing in his chair. 

“I did! They were fresh today, and are really hot, so be careful,” Buck warned, settling a plate of the samosa in front of them, along with Christopher’s bowl of curry and rice. Eddie stared at it for a minute, wondering if Leah had liked Indian food - if she’d sat with her family to eat the way he was doing right now. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” He startled at the sound of his name, looking up at Buck who was now looking at him worriedly. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only passed him a bowl of his own.

The piping hot food told him that he wasn’t in a desert, he wasn’t eating field rations, precariously-warmed MREs in a bid to keep his energy levels high. The warmth of the bowl seeped through his cold fingers, made only worse as Eddie flinched at another crack of thunder.

His knee bounced restlessly as he pushed his food around a little, forcing a smile on his face for his son’s sake. Storms in LA never lasted more than 30 minutes, and it was just his luck that this one did. 

He almost didn’t notice Buck hooking his foot behind Eddie’s ankle to keep him out of his head. The heat of Buck’s foot relaxed him somewhat. It was an intimate contact, done seamlessly as Buck chatted away with Chris, discreetly pushing Eddie’s food closer to him in a silent request to eat.

Eddie followed his lead, pushing his ankle slightly back and trying to stay somewhat calm. He focused on the spiced steam coming from his bowl, forcing himself to eat something. Thankfully, the nausea didn’t roar up, but each bite landed like lead in his stomach.

Alex and Leah probably sat around doing this - eating takeout and gossiping away about everything, watching the movies teenagers these days liked and picking them apart the way he and Buck did.

His appetite completely vanished at the thought, and he set his fork down, maybe less than half the bowl empty.

“How about we finish eating and then maybe early bedtime today?” Buck suggested. Christopher readily nodded, casting a glance over to him. Eddie cocked his head at the movement, looking between Buck and Chris before it hit him.

This was planned.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie said, squeezing Buck’s shoulder and planting a kiss on Chris’ head before going out to hunt down his phone.

Just as he’d suspected - one call to Buck.

He tapped the device against his palm, looking out to where the rain was finally letting up. It caught him off-guard sometimes, his son’s compassion for things. Now that he’d had the monumental realization that Chris had called Buck, the other things his son had been doing throughout the evening made sense too.

Chris knew _Zootopia_ was by-far his favourite of all kids’ movies. He knew Eddie liked popcorn, and Indian food, and Eddie vaguely recalled the movement of Chris’ little hand on his side in a familiar motion. And he’d called the one other person who could make Eddie feel more solid without fail.

He dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d gotten _so_ lucky with the people in his life, it was overwhelming on days like this. Days where he didn’t feel like he deserved any of them - not for losing people like this.

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice came from behind him. Eddie turned to look at his worried expression, but when he spoke, it was only to say, “Chris is ready for bed. He’s just asking for you.”

“Thanks.”

Buck caught his arm as he turned to leave. “Hey...um, when you’re done with that, do you want me to stay with you or sleep on the couch? Because you look like you need to get to bed.”

It wasn’t rare for them to share a room; too many nights on each other’s sofas meant that at this point, they just shared to save themselves the back pain later. They were adults, they could handle it. But Buck was giving him an out, a reason to feel less exposed on a night where he felt transparent, as if anyone could see through him.

If it had been anyone else, he’d have taken it immediately - would’ve gone straight to bed and never would’ve brought it up again. But this was Buck, so he shook his head slowly, meeting his best friend’s eyes. “No, I want you with me.”

The way Eddie worded the answer wasn’t lost on either of them, but he watched Buck’s shoulders relax a smidgen as he headed towards Eddie’s room with a faint grin. Eddie went to Chris’ room to find him turned towards the door, blinking at him.

“Hey, buddy. Did you brush?”

Chris demonstrated by baring his teeth dramatically, making Eddie laugh as he sank down onto the bed next to him. “Yeah! Buck made sure I brushed extra today. Dad, can you read to me?”

“Yeah, of course, which book do you want?”

Christopher pulled a thin book off his side table, one that his reading level had outgrown years ago. But the significance of it wasn’t missed on him - this was the book they’d read multiple times when Chris was a child, squished together on the bed with his son nestled under his chin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I want this one today.” Eddie crawled onto the bed and pulled his son to his body, cracking the worn spine open and beginning to read. He blinked back tears the whole time, still feeling like he was drowning in love he didn’t deserve to have.

Christopher’s head was lolling against his shoulder by the time they reached the last colorfully-animated page. “Daddy?” Chris said drowsily as Eddie dislodged himself from his half-asleep child.

“Hmm?” Eddie smiled down at his son as he tucked the blankets tighter around him.

Christopher reached up towards him, fingers touching his cheek. “Are you sad today?”

Eddie hesitated, not knowing what to say. Then he remembered his promise to Christopher, to make sure his son knew that he could be open with his emotions. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Today was a sad day, but I’ll be okay. I have you, and I have Buck.”

“Are you mad I called him?”

Eddie chuckled, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead. “No, buddy. I’m glad you did. Thank you.” Any talk of remembering not to use other people’s phones could wait. Chris had a natural empathy for other people that reminded him of the man getting ready for bed in his room, and Eddie couldn’t fault him for doing what he would’ve never mustered the courage to do.

The answer seemed to satisfy Chris, who snuggled deeper into the covers. “I’m glad we have Buck.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, but managed to choke out a reply, “I’m glad we have Buck, too. But I’m so glad I have you, Chris. Thank God for you, kid.”

He leaned down to press another soft kiss against his kid’s head, shutting off the lights and leaving the door slightly cracked open as he left.

His room found Buck waiting for him, seated on the far end of the bed frowning at the floor. He was already clad in sleep clothes, so Eddie went and grabbed his own, stepping into the bathroom.

He turned towards the mirror first, flinching at his reflection. To put it lightly, he looked like death warmed over.

Sunken-in cheeks, red-rimmed eyes, exhaustion prominent everywhere he looked. His hands were still red from where he’d scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, hoping to get Leah’s blood off his skin. 

Eddie turned away and took the world’s quickest hot shower so he could just go to bed and put this day behind him. The water pounded some of the tension out of his muscles, but he still felt like a tightly-coiled wire, about to snap any second as he toweled off and joined Buck in bed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Buck whispered as they settled down, facing one another. Eddie did want to do something, he just didn’t know how to ask for it. His best friend seemed to read the uncertainty in his face, because his face softened as he curled fingers around Eddie’s wrist, tugging gently.

Any apprehension Eddie had about this evaporated, and he went willingly, slotting easily into Buck’s side as if it were made for him. A little more of the pressure from the night eased at the proximity and warmth, and briefly, Eddie wondered why they didn’t hug like this more often.

He didn’t know what else to do with the familiar scent of _Buck_ surrounding him except to sink into it, knowing his best friend would hold him up while he’s down. He turned his nose slightly, catching the comforting smell of freshly-showered skin, sandalwood and _Buck_ all swirling together in a way that calmed his erratic mind, but snapped the remaining sense of composure he was valiantly trying to keep.

The tears came slow, in jerking sobs and rattled breaths, but they were coming steadily and Buck only held him tighter for it as Eddie cried and cried and cried. Everything he’d been trying to hold back since the moment they climbed back into the truck flooded him now, crashing over him with waves that wouldn’t let up.

“Her name was Leah,” Eddie rasped out when he finally managed to calm himself down. Buck didn’t say anything in return, stroking encouraging fingers through his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “She was seventeen, walking across the street with her best friend when a car ran the red light. Her head slammed into the concrete, fracturing her skull and we couldn’t save her. She died in the street, while Alex had to look on.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to Eddie’s forehead. Fresh tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he burrowed his face deeper into Buck’s side. “But Eddie, you have to understand. This was not your fault.”

“Buck, she had her whole life in front of her. She had a pulse when we got there but we lost it and I was supposed to give her compressions, and I...I failed at it. I couldn’t bring her back.” He couldn’t even look at him, but Buck didn’t give him a choice, cupping his face to tilt it upwards. Blazing blue eyes bored into his own, pleading him to understand.

“It doesn’t matter if it was you or someone else administering compressions, there was nothing else that could be done. Eddie, you can’t blame yourself, because some things just...aren’t in our control. You know as well as I do that we can’t save everyone. What matters is that you _tried._ You did your best to bring her back.”

“I was seeing Shannon all over again,” he whispered thickly, eyes slipping closed as the images flashed across his mind. Buck brushed a thumb along his cheekbone, slowly moving in circles. “Leah didn’t even make it to the ambulance. I got to say goodbye but Alex didn’t even get that. I watched him...I watched him fall over his best friend, pleading with her to come back _after_ she died and Buck-” The rest of the words vanished in a rough sob as Eddie choked up again, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head at the memory. 

Buck’s arms came around him, holding him tight as he cried. “You did everything you could, Eddie. We can’t save everyone. All we can do is try and hope, but sometimes, it’s just not enough.”

“It should be. I feel like…” Eddie trailed off, pressing his next admission into Buck’s neck. “I fell out of the air in a helicopter crash. I was shot three times, shot _at_ multiple times. Shannon, Leah, countless other people can’t even make it across the street.” Buck pulled back immediately at that, expression twisting as Eddie continued with his earlier thought. “It’s not fair, Buck. I don’t understand how...why I’m still here and they aren’t.”

“It wasn’t your time. We can’t change how things happen, Eddie, and the universal question of ‘why?’ will never have an answer that satisfies you,” Buck said. “It doesn’t get easier, and it never will, and you know that. It’s not fair to compare, because you’re suffering through nightmares and PTSD for those things, too.” 

Eddie didn’t reply to that, still not being able to find a way to forgive himself. They laid together in silence for a while, one of Buck’s hands trailing up and down the bumps of Eddie’s spine. He sunk into the soothing movement until he felt like he’d crawl into Buck’s skin, burrowing himself there to hide away from the rest of the world.

“Alex’s scream reminded me of you,” Eddie whispered quietly, too quietly. Evidently, Buck heard him anyway because he tensed underneath him. “Hayden’s rescue…”

“Eddie-”

“No, hear me out, _please_ ,” he implored, straightening up to kneel back on his haunches. Buck pushed himself up to rest against the slats of the headboard, looking at their linked hands as his throat worked around a lump. “I didn’t want to watch anything about the rescue - nothing about that day, at all. Chim and Hayden were safe and my son still had his father and that’s all I cared about. But Buck...were you ever going to tell me about it?”

Buck scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes glassy and red. “Where is this coming from, Eddie? That rescue was months ago, why dredge it up again?”

“Because...because I can’t get it out of my head. Alex loved Leah but I-”

“Yeah, and I love you.” Buck silenced him with three words, spoken as if they burst out of his chest without warning. 

Oh. _Oh._

Eddie saw the panic flit through his eyes before determination took over, his tone softening as he looked down at their linked hands. “Eddie...this isn’t how I wanted to tell you. But this is why thunderstorms make me uneasy. Because every time I hear a crack, or a flash, I remember seeing the tunnel collapse. I remember losing our only access to you, and I remember not even knowing if you were dead or alive. I remember the terror that took over me when the reality sunk in. All those hypotheticals, Eddie, you could’ve been _dead_ and we wouldn’t have ever known.” 

Eddie sat frozen as Buck’s voice cracked. “Maybe I should’ve said something earlier, but I was scared and I just didn’t want to remember it, and by the looks of it, neither did you.”

“I-I didn’t. I haven’t thought about it in months,” he managed. “But if it were you, I’d be in the same position.”

It was Buck’s turn to freeze and look up at him at the vulnerable admission. Eddie had never, ever let himself believe that Buck would love him back, but the other man had given him the words so freely.

“Buck...I don’t know if I can give you those words right now, and I don’t want to give them to you while I’m like this. I just...Leah and Alex made me realize just how fleeting life is. One moment you’re there and the other you’re not. It sounds stupid for a first responder since _every_ day shows us that, but something about today’s call just...I can’t stop thinking about it.” Eddie tripped over his own tongue getting the words out. He was pretty sure he wasn’t even making sense, but Buck was looking at him like he understood, just like always.

“Eddie,” he said softly, cupping his jaw. “What happened to Leah was not your fault. What happened to Shannon was not your fault.”

“I know that up here,” he said, tapping his head.

“You just need to believe it in here,” Buck finished, resting a palm over his heart. “I get it.” 

And Eddie knew he did. They’d all lost people as a consequence of the job. None of them had ever forgotten the people they lost, but most of them weren’t able to forgive themselves for it, no matter how much time passed. 

Eddie lowered himself until his head was pillowed on Buck’s stomach, closing his eyes as the other man carded strong fingers through his hair. 

The pain didn’t magically vanish at Buck and Christopher’s care, but Eddie felt less like he was floating and more grounded to the Earth. In the morning, he’d be able to get out of bed without the world crushing him but for now, he let himself lean on his partner.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, turning his face to press a kiss to Buck’s T-shirt as his body started succumbing to the allure of sleep.

“You’d do it for me,” Buck replied. “I meant the words, Eddie. I don’t want you to doubt that.”

He peered out of the window through half-lidded eyes, thankful that at least the thunder seemed to have subsided, leaving only the soft rhythm of rain on the grass. Cushioned against his best friend, Eddie felt himself grow drowsy, surrounded in a cocoon of comfort and Buck’s protection. 

He’d come far too close to losing this, multiple times. The ladder truck, the clots, the tsunami, the lawsuit, Hayden’s rescue, the train car...the recovery periods from all of that. There was nothing he could do but be grateful that they were still here. Chris was still here, Buck was here, and so was Eddie.

His family.

There was no doubt in his mind that he loved Buck, and first thing tomorrow morning, he was going to tell him that but for now...

“I mean them, too,” he slurred lightly as he drifted off.

* * *

Buck smiled as Eddie’s soft snores filled the silence between them, tipping his head back against the wall as he thought about what Eddie had said.

This was a part of the job he was familiar with; Buck still couldn’t work past the losses, the mere hypotheticals that if they'd arrived a few seconds earlier or if they had done _something_ differently, that person would still be with them.

_“Some people just don’t want to be saved.”_

Those were the words he’d said to the sister of the first person he lost on a call - Devon.

Buck remembered feeling untethered as he’d watched Devon fall, almost as if his own weight would tip off the rollercoaster with his shock. Buck’s hand had been right there, all the boy had to do was reach for it, but it didn’t happen. That was a loss that stuck to him like glue, sticky and consuming with the notion that he couldn’t save everyone - not if they didn’t want it.

He looked down at Eddie’s face, reaching over to grab a tissue and dampening it slightly. As he gently wiped the tear tracks from his partner’s face, he couldn’t help but remember the call about Thomas and Mitchell.

Thomas had been fine one moment, sitting on the truck retelling his love story, and the next, he was slumped over his husband as life left both of them. They’d passed together, like they’d wanted to, but Buck hadn’t understood that until he saw their hands clasped together.

_“That’s love.”_

Eddie had been on that call, too. He’d watched as Buck desperately administered compressions, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder as he slumped back in defeat.

It wasn’t as if either of them didn’t want to be saved; they’d just accepted that their time was there, and they’d wanted to go together.

But Thomas and Mitchell had lived a full life. Nothing in the world ever prepared them for the calls where the patient was so young. The call that they’d lost Evelyn, the teenage girl that had been hit by the ambulance because of a traffic light malfunction, was one that stuck with all of them. Buck remembered seeing more blood splattered over the car seats than in her body.

It was hard to believe that life could be lost so young, so brutally.

There wasn’t anything they could do to bring them back to life, but the fact that _they_ were still here had to account for something. It reminded Buck of how Eddie went out of his way to make sure Chris knew his mother - not out of some sort of guilt, but so the memory of her wouldn’t fade from the Diaz household.

They didn’t know enough about the people they lost on call to remember them in the same way. The only interaction they had with most of them were the things that resulted in their passing, whether it be a car accident, a fire, a malfunction or any number of things, and that wasn’t the same thing. 

The thing they all needed to work towards was acceptance. 

Carding his fingers back through Eddie’s hair, Buck sighed, staring back down at the angles of his best friend’s face. The slightly-stubbled jaw, the damp hair flopping over his forehead, the prominent crease between his brows even in sleep. 

It suffocated him sometimes, the knowledge that Eddie could run into a burning building or any number of emergencies, and not come back out. It was ironic, because between the two of them, Buck held the track record for most injuries sustained on the job, but death didn't scare him. It was being left behind that did. 

That knowledge didn’t turn into a startling reality until Hayden’s rescue. Suddenly, Buck was all too aware of the possibility that there could be a day where one of them didn’t make it out alive. It bled into the weeks after Eddie came back to work, Buck’s behaviour bordering on paranoia as he tracked him over the building fires, staying vigilant of Eddie’s position at all times.

If his partner had noticed, he hadn’t said anything.

That had been another thing Buck had to work towards accepting. Not the dangers of their job, but the reality that those dangers actually did apply to Eddie Diaz as well, and what that meant for Buck. It had gone a long way in him realizing that what he felt for Eddie wasn’t like anything else he’d felt before, that his best friend wasn’t just that.

Eddie and Christopher made up Buck's whole world - he couldn't afford to lose that.

Buck sighed again, his heart hurting at the sobs he could still feel wracking Eddie’s body. He’d never seen his best friend break into that many pieces before. Eddie willingly curling into him was a big marker of his emotional state, but Buck was glad he trusted him to have his back. He was unbelievably proud of Christopher as well, for trying so hard to make his father feel better, and a little proud of himself too for the kid having trusted him enough to call.

Eddie’s snores were a little deeper now, so Buck took the risk of sliding down the rail to lay down. Eddie snuffled but readjusted himself so his ear was over Buck’s heart and arm over his waist, letting out a slow exhale in his sleep.

Keeping one hand in Eddie’s hair, Buck closed his eyes, willing his mind to stop racing to get some sleep. He focused on the pitter-patter of the rain, and the weight of the man in his arms. 

“I love you,” he murmured against Eddie’s temple, holding him close.

The storm had passed, and they were here.

**Author's Note:**

> Endings are the worst thing in the world, I said what I said.
> 
> Kudos and Comments make my day, so thank you to everyone who leaves them! I love hearing what you guys think, and anyone who takes time out of their day to comment has my heart and soul <3
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [zeethebooknerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zeethebooknerd) or on Twitter at [tkreyesevandiaz](https://twitter.com/tkreyesevandiaz).


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